


Operation Meteor

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the <a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/"><b>gw500</b></a> prompt wild card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Meteor

Pacing the length of his office which doubled as a command center, Dekim Barton clenched his fists and looked around for something to throw. He had been swearing since the messenger had brought the news and that just was not enough to take the edge off the explosive rage building inside of him. The plan, his plan, had been in the making since the Gundams were first designed even if their creators had conceived of a different use. Suddenly, years and years of careful subterfuge and manipulation thrown away like garbage out of an airlock because five spoiled teenaged boys decided to defy their training to run off to play hero instead.

It was infuriating and it made him want to go ahead with the mission. They’d see the error of their ways when everyone was pointing the finger of blame and hunting them down like the dogs they were. If he had them here in front of him now he would have them shot, and take pleasure in watching them die. Finding and training good pilots was a lot of work, but they were not irreplaceable. It was the loss of the machines, the Gundams, that brought the whole thing to a screeching halt. Creating chaos was pointless if you didn’t have the manpower to step in and take over. Any dictator worth his salt knew that.

That thought was enough to set off another spate of creative and diverse cursing. Dekim’s family line might be from the upper crust of society but the man himself was a soldier to his very core and if there was something that military men excelled at besides delivering death and destruction it was profanity. He had personally hand picked the pilots now flying through space in his Gundams. They had been selected on a criterion of size, age and idealism. The first one was for the sheer practicality of fitting into the cockpit and the other two because youth and patriotism made them easy to bend to his will. Or so he had been lead to believe. They were supposed to be simple pieces on a game board he designed not tokens that self animated and rewrote the play as they went along!

Fortunately for his blood pressure and the life expectancies of those around him, Dekim was not the kind of man who limited himself to only one scheme at a time. His father had taught him to always have a back up in place and the lesson had been learned well. Still in Dekim’s possession was the ultimate figurehead. The girl he planned to exploit from the moment he had learned who her father was. He had trained her himself, taking no chances with letting other people shape her mind and opinions of the world. Unlike his son, the miserable traitor, she was convinced of her destiny and would do whatever was needed to make it happen. Force of will and a clear vision was something to reckon with particularly if there was an army to back it up.

The pacing eased until Dekim slowed to a stop in front of the large wooden desk that dominated the room. His eyes went to the picture of Leia and Mareiemaia on his desk and a dark smile creased his face. Fuck the pawns who thought they had the free will to disrupt his plans. He owned the queen in training and that meant that inevitably victory would be his.


End file.
